Plausible deniability
by curdled-milk
Summary: A conversation, a sordid little secret. A taste of victory. Not everyone is second best forever.


Disclaimer: I do not own HYD. Seriously, do I look Japanese? (Well, maybe a little, but I still have no claim to the characters herein). For no reason, I now present a short, silly one shot. Because, why not? I'm out of practice with the writing thing, it is true. . . .

- - - -

"Well, they're getting married at last."

"It's about goddamned time."

Five years had passed since Doumyouji went away. Five long years. The end of high school, the beginning and the end of college. The time flowed by like water in a rushing stream. They'd grown up. Well, at least a little. And though no one would have thought their relationship could possibly have stood the test of time and distance, Doumyouji and Makino were getting married. Even with distance, they'd had drama and fights aplenty. Schemes and madness, and Tsukushi's perverse unwillingness to ever agree with a word Tsukasa said. But they'd persevered despite (or perhaps because) of it all. Now, much to the great displeasure of Doumyouji Kaede, it was happening. A thing that should never be. A marriage doomed (most said, as they shook their heads in disapproval) to end disastrously. It simply wasn't proper or smart to marry so far across the lines of class and wealth. But they didn't care. (Since when had Tsukushi been proper, or Tsukasa smart, anyhow?). Today was the day. As the groomsmen, Akira and Soujiro were drinking together in sorrow at having to be part of this spectacle. This disaster waiting to happen.

"Goddamned time is right," Akira shook his head, "Time Tsukasa got laid. I wish to god Makino weren't such a prude. A man shouldn't have to wait until his wedding night to become a man. It's no wonder he's still such a temperamental brat. What the hell is wrong with that virgin girl? Denying him for so long. I'd have dumped her long ago if I were him. . . . What?" He stopped mid-tirade, brought to a halt by the strange look Soujiro was leveling at him.

"Five years."

"Yeah. Too fucking long for a sane person."

"You really think in five years, they never once got it on?" It was Soujiro's turn to shake his head pityingly.

"Well, yeah." Akira sniffed, "I mean, look at them, she's a total prude. And he's still a blushing spaz. You even mention the word "sex" in front of either and they start freaking out. They're not normal."

Still, Soujiro continued to look askance at his best friend.

"What?" Akira demanded, beginning to feel annoyed, "What do you know that I don't? Come on. Out with it! Did Tsukasa cheat on the virgin girl? All those years in New York, he had to have met some sexy American chick! I hear those girls will do anything you ask, and you don't even need to be nice to them! And why didn't the bastard ever tell me? Aren't we supposed to be best friends? He's not allowed to have secrets!"

Soujiro just shook his head again, his lips twisted in smug satisfaction. Watching Akira flail was fun.

"And how do you know? And why didn't you tell me? Why would Tsukasa tell you and not me? Or do you just have better spies than me?"

"Wrong, wrong, wrong." Soujiro laughed. "You're so far off, it's not even funny."

"Then just tell me already, you bastard!"

"You really want to know?"

"Hell yes!"

"Hmmm. . . ." Soujiro tapped his lips with one elegant finger as if pondering where to begin, while Akira seethed with frustration.

"I dunno," Soujiro mused, "You're too much of a gossip. I don't think I can tell you."

"Me?! Me, too much of a gossip?" Akira was all outraged, "And what about you?"

"Three years."

"Three years what?"

"Three years I've known a secret."

"Umm... What?" How could Soujiro have known something that long and not told him? Akira was shocked, until he remembered other secrets about his friend that it had taken him years to discover, mostly by luck or accident. "Oh. . ."

"If I tell you, you can never tell a soul." And now Soujiro was all deadly serious. What could possibly merit that attitude Akira couldn't imagine. But now he was dying to know. "Swear it. I'm not kidding you. If you ever let one word of what I'm going to tell you slip, I won't have to kill you. Tsukasa would do it in an instant. If Makino didn't beat him to it."

"What could possibly be that bad? So maybe they're not virgins after all? Big deal! No wait, Tsukasa's really gay? Is Makino pregnant? What?"

Soujiro was still shaking his head. "Swear it. Not a word leaves your lips."

"All right, all right already. I swear!" Akira couldn't possibly not know, not after all this build up.

"Ok, then." Soujiro took a deep breath. "Tsukasa's not a virgin, because Makino's not a virgin. And she's not a virgin, because of me."

A long silence followed. A long, long silence. Akira's jaw dropped open so far it nearly hit the floor. He was so stunned he could hardly breathe, much less gasp out a coherent question. "huh . . . uh. . wha?"

"Heh." Soujiro permitted himself a brief snort, and a moment in which to savor Akira's confusion and discomfort. "I was as shocked as you when she came to me that day. I suppose she must have spoken to her friend Yuki, or maybe she'd spent too much time around Sakurako that week. Or hell, for all I know she got the idea from one of her college friends. It doesn't matter. It was a few weeks before Tsukasa planned to come to town for a visit. You were away on a business trip for your father. She called me one afternoon, dragged me out to some stupid café, and then she propositioned me. . . ."

It had been one of the stranger days of his life, as he'd later recall. He and Makino were not really friends. Merely acquaintances, whose lives intersected at intervals, but never really ran together. She'd been nervous, wringing her hands and blushing for no reason that he could figure.

"Out with it." He'd impatiently demanded at last, "Why did you drag me out here?"

"Umm. . . well. . ." she'd stammered, "Do you remember my friend Yuki? Matsuoka Yuki? You slept with her once. She told me."

"Yeah so? I've slept with a lot of women. And that was a long time ago. What, did she claim I got her pregnant or gave her some disease? Lies all lies!!"

"No, no!" Makino had waved her hands in a placating gesture. "It's just. . . I need a favor. A big favor."

"I'm not sleeping with her again." He'd stated, "I'm not that kind of guy."

Again she'd shaken her head and stammered a denial.

"Well, what is it then?"

And then the words had come, as if a dam had burst within her. Being Makino, her explanation had been incoherent, to say the least, but what it came down to was this: She and Doumyouji had been together a long time, as everyone knew. And, as everyone seemed to suspect, they still hadn't Done It. Partly due to Makino's prudishness, it was true, and partly due the strangeness of a long distance relationship between two spastic freaks. Each time they reunited, they had to rebridge the distance and awkwardness and inhibitions between them. By the time they'd gotten past kissing to petting, it was always time for Tsukasa to leave again. And then there was that other thing.

"I'm scared."

"What of? Sex is perfectly natural! And fun!"

"Well. . . ." She'd hesitated again, but she'd come too far to back out now. "You know Doumyouji. He's a wild beast. He always says he can't control himself. And Everyone says, you know, that the first time hurts. And, I think, he's so. . . ."

"Big?" Soujiro had had a hard time not laughing. But she seemed so distressed, and he tried to contain himself.

"Y. . . yeah."

"Heh. He's not that impressive." Soujiro had waved a dismissive hand, "And that shit about the first time, I think it's all a myth made up by hysterical girls." Tsukushi had looked dubious, and he'd continued, "But what's that got to do with me? You need advice? It's just get it the hell out of the way. You'll feel better afterwards. And so will he."

"That. . . .That's why I'm here." She'd begun wringing her hands again. But he still hadn't understood. "I want to get it out of the way. And I want. I need it to be good. He doesn't want to hurt me I know. But I'm afraid he will. I mean, it's not like we know what we're doing." She was blushing redder than he'd ever seen her before. "So I need to know before. That it's good. So I can make it good for him. And so it won't matter if he's a wild animal, because at least I'll know what to do. And it won't hurt." He hadn't understood her logic at all or what she was driving at. Though that didn't seem to matter, because she continued. "And then I thought of you. You always said you'd 'play with me' if I needed it. And Sakurako said you were better than Akira—And, and, you were kind to Yuki. And afterwards, she was ok. . ."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa there!" Soujiro had held up his hands. A plea to slow down, let him process her words. "You want me. . . to fuck you?" He'd deliberately used the crudest word possible to try and shock some sense back into her.

Red-faced, she'd nodded, while she gained the courage to speak. "Yes."

"You have got to be joking." He'd tried to laugh it off, But she'd persisted.

"What would I get out of this, though?" He'd protested when it became clear that she was serious. Not that Makino wasn't cute in her own way. (As he had noted many times in the past). But she was dating his best friend, and virgins were not so much fun. And dear god, he did not want to die at Tsukasa's hands.

"Two things." He'd watched, stunned, as she'd rummaged through her bag to find a folder. A folder which had turned out to contain blackmail material. On him. "Sakurako gave this to me."

"Holy shit." He'd paled, as he'd flipped through the pages, "My father would kill me if he saw this. My mother would die."

Tsukushi nodded, shamed at how low she had sunk for this. "I couldn't look at it." She'd admitted, "You can have it whether or not you agree."

"And the second thing?" Soujiro had prompted. He was in it now, he may as well see things through to their conclusion.

Tsukushi had taken a deep breath, "If you agree. . . Then you would possess a secret that would destroy Tsukasa, and ruin our relationship, if you so desired. . . ." she let the implications hang in the air, that he would then have power over her, and by extension, over Doumyouji. Soujiro's scheming mind could even see long-term possibilities for the blackmail over his friend. Assuming Doumyouji didn't just kill him.

Soujiro wasn't one to go in for blackmail, though. It was beneath him. On the other hand, he was in the middle of a long dryspell. Not through any fault of his own, but more because his father had (finally) caught wind of his lifestyle, and most vehemently disapproved. His spies watched everywhere, these days. Soujiro wasn't having any fun. It was not a situation he was used to, and he was getting frustrated. His own hands were a poor substitute for a woman. Even a woman as perilous and prudish as Makino.

In the end, Soujiro was just a sucker for a pretty face. If a woman begged for his attention, who was he to say no?

They'd gone to her apartment. His father's spies would never watch there too closely. No, he'd have to be mad to try anything with Doumyouji's girl. And she was known to them. He couldn't get in too much mischief with a girl like her.

She'd been nervous. Of course. But also strangely aggressive. As if she'd been taking lessons from Doumyouji. She was a remarkably good kisser. Tsukasa had taught her well, in that at least. They'd cut right to the chase the second she'd locked the door behind them. Makino was a girl who knew what she wanted. Her arms had snaked around him, her hands had tangled in his hair. So much for the prude. Soujiro had vaguely wondered when she'd changed so much. Warm, soft lips on his, her slim body pressed against him. He'd responded. How could he not? He'd occasionally wondered what it would be like to run his hands down her spine, to caress those rounded buttocks. He felt her stiffen in surprise, then force herself to relax as his hands wandered up, under her shirt. Skin on skin. Soft skin, knobby spine and all.

"How far?" He'd paused briefly to inquire, "How far have you gone? Before?"

She'd bowed her head against his neck, and murmured against his skin to hide her flush, "I, um, well. . . I keep my panties on. . . I'm . . . afraid . . ."

"Hmph. Well, they're going to have to come off." Soujiro had laughed softly. Well at least she'd let Doumyouji get most of her clothes off. That was more than he'd expected. He'd felt her nod against his chest, as he gently guided them towards her bed. His nimble fingers had made short work of the buttons on her shirt, slipped it off her shoulders, and ghosted across her skin to unclasp her bra. She'd reddened yet again, as her breasts were exposed to his gaze.

"I'm s. . sorry." She'd stammered, refusing to meet his eyes. "I know I'm nothing like the girls you like. . ." She tried briefly to hide herself from him. "I'm sorry I tried to blackmail you. I know you don't want to be here. This was a terrible idea. . ."

"Oh shut up." Soujiro had murmured, pulling her hands away from her chest, "You've got nothing to hide, and I've got nothing better to do tonight. As long as you don't cry. I can't stand tears." As he'd talked, he'd gently pushed her backwards on the bed, following predatorily after her. "You asked for this, and I'm going to deliver. Just don't blame me," he'd smirked briefly, "If after tonight, you're disappointed in your idiot-boy. Because, you know, this is all you get." He'd knelt over her, removed his own shirt, and took in the sight of the girl beneath him. Her hair was splayed around her head, the last halo of the innocent. Her nipples were peaking in the chill air of the room, beacons on the scarred skin of her small breasts. Everywhere, he noted the old healed scars from the vicious attacks she'd endured throughout high school. Brands, if you would, of Tsukasa's will. He'd forgotten she would have scars. She always seemed to heal so fast. She kept her head turned as if shamed, as he ran his fingers along them. "They're kind of sexy." Soujiro remarked to the air. He wasn't used to women with less than perfect skin. No wonder she'd been ashamed. (Well that and the fact that she was short and skinny). Idly he wondered if she thought she was ugly because of them, and if she blamed Tsukasa. Was it any wonder then, that she might want an experience not tainted by a man responsible for her old hurts?

Enh. Philosophy was for posers. And Soujiro had a girl waiting beneath him. Warm, soft, and willing. He bent to the task at hand.

It had been . . . Interesting. She was awkward, yes, but so terribly responsive. Most of the girls he was used to knew all the moves, responded as if programmed: moan here, writhe there, as if it were a game, or all routine. Not Makino. It was obvious she felt guilty about the situation, but being who she was, she was going to make the best of it. She wanted him to feel good too, kept focusing more on his pleasure than her own, until he'd managed to overwhelm her in sensation. He'd never forget the awed look on her face, as she'd come. Her obvious amazement, that this was what it was all for. He couldn't forget the helpless way her hands had tangled in his hair as he'd lowered his head between her legs, or the way she'd trembled as he came inside of her.

Afterwards, they'd lain there, tangled and sweaty. Her hands had delicately traced the lines of his body, as if memorizing every plane, every sensation that brought him pleasure. He'd kissed her one last time. The last time, forever. She'd smiled radiantly, and bowed to him deeply, shocking him with her gratitude. She'd made him tea, and he'd left.

They'd never mentioned it again. She continued to play the blushing virgin in public, and never once did she let slip by word or action what she'd done. She kept her secrets well, and so did he. Until now.

. . . "You have got to be joking." Akira's disbelief shattered Soujiro's reverie. "I have never heard such bold faced crap in my entire life!"

"Oh come on!" Soujiro protested. "It could have happened."

"Not in this lifetime!"

"Ok, fine. You're right. Actually, they've been involved in a ménage-a-trois with Rui for the past two years. They originally planned for her to marry Rui, but Tsukasa said that he refused to be the one who had to sneak around to see Makino, and that it made more sense for Rui to be lurking in the shadows, since that's what he did anyway."

"You're so full of shit."

"Yeah, and you're a moron. So what?"

"Bastard."

"Asshole."

The conversation went downhill from there, devolving quickly into a wrestling match with hurled insults and sneers. All in good fun, of course, halted only when the two boys realized they might wrinkle their tuxedos, which just wouldn't do, not less than an hour before the ceremony was to begin.

As the music started, and the two boys joined Rui leading the bridesmaids down the aisle ahead of the soon-to-be newlyweds, Soujiro smiled secretly to himself. All his life, in everything that mattered, Tsukasa had always gotten his way, had always been the first. But for always and eternity, Soujiro would know that he had beaten Tsukasa in one thing, he had had Makino first. It didn't matter if Tsukasa would never know he'd come in second, because Soujiro knew. And Makino would never be able to sleep with Tsukasa without remembering, and comparing the two men. Victory was sweet.

It was enough.

Soujiro was content.

End

. . . . As ever, questions, comments, flames, can be addressed to curdled(dot)milk(at)gmail(dot)com. Though, I honestly don't care if you don't like it. It's enough that I am amused. Maybe you were too. cm . . . .


End file.
